Justice
by Yuki-and-Annabelle
Summary: When everyone is given their just desserts.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize

_Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. – Annabelle._

BPOV

I cried out. The pain, the pain…too much, it was too much.

I thought it would end, I thought he would stop; I thought someone would have mercy.

But it wouldn't. I had done something, and it landed me in the depths of the hell I was experiencing now.

At last he was finished. My father. The name burned, even in my mind. I couldn't name the things he did to me on a daily basis, the things that made me look like death. That made me feel like death.

I wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for my flighty mother. One day, she came to our house in Forks, Washington, and showed us her new husband. Bluntly she stated that she was finished with my "boring" father, and she was off to pursue bigger things. She left us; she left me.

It wasn't a year before it started. The rape, the abuse. I could see the emptiness in my father's eyes, the deadness that was present there every day. It was because of my mother's cold-hearted goodbye, because of the darkness in my father revealed after his heartbreak. I wasn't sure whom I blamed more.

But one thing was for sure: I was alone. Nobody could save me from my hell on earth. I learned to cover the signs for school; the first time I sought help had been disastrous.

He left me on the bed, bleeding on the inside and out. I heard him leave the room, and let my tears fall. I was alone. Nobody cared for me, nobody would help me, I had no one.

Blood saturated the sheets as I cried silently. I would never escape; there was no hope. At school, I was an outcast, the quiet, too-skinny girl with the sad face. No one bothered to talk to me. I listened to the rainfall on the roof, an echo of the darkness in my heart. I looked over my bleeding, naked body and remembered how it used to be, when Renee was still here, when Charlie was happy. We would go places; never a bad word was spoken to me. Now all I was called was _slut, bitch, ungrateful whore._

I buried my face in a ratty pillow and screamed. I screamed until my voice was hoarse, until my body was exhausted. The same hopelessness that descended every day came again, but a thousand times worse: all my memories were crashing down on me, every beating, every rape, every name…beating me with the sheer remembrance, stripping me of hope.

Every day I saw my peers, happy, carefree. Why couldn't I even have a taste of that? I could treasure it in my memory; go back to it. But nobody would ever share their sunshine with me. I would never have a good life, with shallow problems and loving friends and family. Most likely, Charlie would accidentally take it too far, and I would die the same as I am now: broken, and alone.

The tears flowed freely now as Charlie came in, laughed, and left. Drowsiness, the sweet numb, came over me as I whispered,

"Please, God, give me something."

Suddenly, much too fast, everything went black.

_Review._


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. – Annabelle._

When I woke up, I was perfect. There wasn't a bruise or cut on me. Immediately I ran to the bathroom's mirror and looked myself over.

Perfect.

My bruises were gone, I wasn't bleeding at all, I didn't look like death. My too-skinny body had filled out some, I was _beautiful…_my hair was full and lustrous, my skin delicate porcelain, my eyelashes thick and long…it never ended.

I reached a hand out to touch my reflection, to see if it was real. I stroked the cool glass.

Dimly I realized I should be terrified. Was I going insane? People don't just change this drastically over night. But it felt so _right…_

Slowly I dressed, wishing I could understand. Something huge had happened, and I was much too dazed to think it over now. The other, much _stranger_ part was the feeling that came with this…the feeling of wholesomeness, of safety, of _hope._ I pinched myself, watching two perfect fingers gather a section of perfect skin. It hurt. I hope that meant something, because I think I would truly die if this were all a beautiful dream. The simple idea that I had really, truly changed was ridiculous, it was definitely some sort of hallucination. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and another shock ran through my body…they were sparkling amber.

I ran to the mirror again, slowly moving closer to see my eye color streaming down my cheeks, to reveal an astonishing, breathtaking rainbow of colors.

I slid down to the floor.

Something was seriously wrong here. I must have been going insane—first of all, people don't suddenly become perfect overnight! Second of all, people only have one eye color—not too many to name! I was hyperventilating, what was happening to me?

I couldn't face Charlie like this…oh, God, Charlie! What is he going to say? What am I talking about? I don't even know if this is real! Reality was mixing with the unbelievable, which was which?

"BELLA!"

I froze, bracing myself for the tremor that rolled through me whenever I heard his deep roar. But suddenly, everything was lucidly clear, nothing was as convoluted as it seemed; I understood everything.

And I wasn't frightened.

Picturing Charlie, as a danger suddenly seemed laughable, why was I ever scared of him? Taking him down would be _too_ easy.

I sauntered downstairs to him sitting in the kitchen chair.

"Yes?" I asked calmly. His smug expression faltered as he saw me standing tall, confident. He might be taller than me, he might have been able to toss me around like last weeks' trash before, but that had all changed this morning.

_God, please give me something._

Yes.

"What's wrong with you? Why do you look like that?" I could sense his confusion, his anger.

"I look like this because I asked for it." I smirked.

"Well, do you know what you're asking for right now? I'm going to beat all that back-talk out of you, do you hear me, you whore?" He screamed, towering above me. I looked back serenely. I knew he couldn't hurt me.

I put my first two fingers in my belt loops and waited for him to start. His huge fist hurtled towards my face until it slammed into what looked like solid air just before hitting me. The lights flickered in the house, and a tremor rolled through Charlie starting at his hand.

He shuddered and gasped. "What did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?"

The lights stopped flickering as he grabbed my wrists and slammed me against the wall. Fear from experiences prior crept in, but an overwhelming, white-hot type of fury burned it away as I hissed,

"Don't. Touch. Me." The lights went out and my hands tingled with a sudden energy that was mine alone, I could control it, bend it to my will. Charlie's eyes widened in fear as my body pulsed with a golden light, and I laughed. And, for once, I knew exactly what to do.

I closed my eyes and pictured the glorious golden light in my hands. My hands naturally shaped a small sphere, and it was as if it was alive: it shivered and pulsated, it glowed and radiated heat, and it was beautiful and terrible all at once. It screamed one thing: power.

But best of all, it was mine.

I pushed it toward Charlie in one fluid motion; it exploded with a force that blew my hair back from my face as I watched it swirl around him, my eyes glittering with pleasure. And I knew exactly what had happened to him: he had to watch my memories, and experience them as if they were his own: all the pain, all the fear, all the injustice and anger.

I watched as he writhed on the floor, reveling in my success, even if it was abnormal, even if it wasn't quite fair on his part. But he deserved it. I walked out my house to my truck, to school, wondering how Charlie would be when I returned. But mostly, I walked out with open arms to a brighter future.

At last.

Justice.

_Don't worry, You-Know-Who's coming in the next chapter. Review, flames welcome, I love hearing your opinions!_


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